


Happy Christmas indeed

by weebutwicked



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Rowena MacLeod, Christmas, F/M, M/M, Queen of hell Rowena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21969400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weebutwicked/pseuds/weebutwicked
Summary: Just because Christmas wasn't her thing and it was totally astolenholiday from her own kind, didn't mean she still couldn't partake in the ways of her own choosing. Tricks over treats were usually her thing, all year, not just during Samhain, but Rowena was feeling... celebratory, in ways she hadn't in ages.And why shouldn't she celebrate?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Happy Christmas indeed

**Author's Note:**

> I missed posting this by only a few minutes to keep it on Christmas, oof. Unbetaed and driven purely by a Christmas sugar rush. Any mistakes are completely mine.

They were dead tired. This chasing Michael thing was exhausting, they were only getting so far with Adam and to top it all off Christmas had snuck up on them all without them even batting an eyelash. 

This would have been the year they taught Jack about Christmas. About Santa and leaving him cookies, the naughty and nice list, writing the big guy a letter, the whole nine yards. It would have been a Christmas they never got to have as kids. He really would have liked it. 

Now it seemed like the worst holiday to think about because it would just remind them all about how alone they really were. About how much they had lost this year. Jack, Mary, Rowena. The names just went on.

So they did like they always do, ignored it. Went out on hunts, ate in awkward silence, spent time apart. Eventually, humans still gotta human and that meant trips to the store for the important things, like snacks and kale and crap.

Which left ample time for a certain former Witch to still surprise her boys even though she wasn't there to see their reactions in person.

Just because Christmas wasn't her thing and it was totally a _stolen_ holiday from her own kind, didn't mean she still couldn't partake in the ways of her own choosing. Tricks over treats were usually her thing, all year, not just during Samhain, but Rowena was feeling... celebratory, in ways she hadn't in ages.

And why shouldn't she celebrate? She had a crown on her head, she was alive, sort of, she was therapist of the year to two adorable but stupid fools, and she'd gained simply the most perfect protege any witch worth her ilk could ask for... 

So she would show her favour to these mortals and ring in a new decade of trouble with next to no regrets, no bounties on her person and maybe a moose in her bed. Maybe.

Besides, were the bearded not elf perchance be real, it wouldn't hurt to be on his nice list at least once in her lifetime. Which was exceptionally hard for someone like herself.

But she was trying, okay.

And if she could get Amazon to deliver to her in hell, she could very well pick out gifts for three strapping men she was vaguely fond of. One more than the others, who were they kidding?

Castiel was the first to spot the gifts, laid out on the map table all shimmering with the lights. No cards to say who they were from but the glittery red wrapping paper was rather on the nose. The carefully scorched bow was also a cute giveaway. 

Sam liked it anyway, the other two looked confused.

Picking up the smaller of the gifts, Sam inspected it and saw the small handwritten tag that just said "Tweetie Pie" and handed it to Castiel. Inside lay an enchanted moving photo of Jack bonding with Cas. Rowena hadn't been certain where this moment had come from, but when Jack had force shoved her back to her flat with his powers he had left something behind. A memory of some sort.

She had been able to use that to replicate it into a moment for the boy's father.

No one else would truly understand what it was like to lose a child but Rowena had recognized that feeling in Castiel after she saw him with Belphegor and while she would never admit it out loud, being able to stare at paintings of Fergus helped her cope with losing him sometimes.

It helped her daydream about what things could have been like if she had been a better mother.

Dean's gift was bigger, as it was two pieces. 

One was practical and the other was pointy, though Rowena knew he'd like the pointy bit far more than the practical tome that really, she'd gotten on Amazon because it made her chuckle than anything. 

_Seven Ways to Talk to Your Loved Ones for the Emotionally Constipated_. The minute Dean had spied the title he slammed the wrapping back over it and threw his coat over it so he could pretend he hadn't seen it.

That boy **needed** to talk to his family, whether he was ready to admit it or not. She thought she'd got it into their thick skulls about dealing with their shit but let's be honest, neither the Angel nor the Hero were much for talking or solving problems the smart way. The book wouldn't go away on its own, hidden or not. 

It was always, oh, let's just ignore it till it blows up in our faces or the world ends and we promise to work on it but never do.

So the book would keep coming back till Dean finished it, even if he tossed it out. He would learn, eventually, whether he liked it or not.

Rowena was fairly certain her eyes couldn't roll any farther back when it came to those two so why not have some fun while at it if they were going to be like this.

Which brought her to gift number two. A spelled blade for the pesky zombies, should they rise up again at a moment's notice. Capable of slicing and dicing the undead meant to harm them but also incapable of hurting those with no ill will towards them, it would have to make Dean think twice before blindly swinging away at things in anger.

As he was want to do when things went awry.

Sam's gift, well it was the best gift of all if she said so herself.

Wrapped within the telling red wrapping, lay the Black Grimoire, complete with festive Yule bow, a pre-blessed Yule log, and some Winchester plaid hex bags for whatever their next hunt might be sitting atop a carved chest of sorts with compartments for ingredients on the go. 

"That's gross." 

"Dean."

"It is. It's disgusting. You two are disgusting. You can't even talk to each other like.. person and whatever the hell, sorry, she is but you can get gifts? What did you get her, her very own flannel and replica colt? Is she gonna be riding shotgun with me next while you're doing the Scottish translations?"

"You don't need to translate Scot -- it's still English, Dean. She's not..." Sam trailed off with his trademark bitch face and a growl. He didn't care, not even a bit. He just picked the book out of its wrappings carefully and held it, knowing how much this book meant to Rowena in life and realizing just what it meant that she was giving it to him in death. 

He sort of felt honoured, a little mournful even. 

Even if she was literally just below him and he could still talk to her whenever he wanted, that book was still very important to her. 

"Why is your face like that? Is this like, what crushes look like when you're an adult? You look like you're about to cry. Stop it. It's a book, dude." Dean snarked, spinning his new blade around in his hands and making whooshing noises with it. Would he even **get** it if Sam tried to explain how this was making him feel?

"It's not just a book, it's Her book. She did so many things for this book."

"A literal book of flesh and suspect witchery, you should not be happy about this. She tried to kill us how many times for it?"

"-- and she saved our asses with it just as many times. The fact that she's just willingly giving this to me, that really means something. Who knows what's really in this book besides her? If something happens, she gets out of control or she needs our help, this book could be the key to fixing it. She's trusting us, trusting _me_ to care for it."

"Oh my god, that thing does not need care, it needs to be sealed away and exorcised for demons."

"Maybe Rowena is just storing it here for safekeeping and she does not intend for Sam to keep it."

"Thank you, Cas."

"She already gave Sam many spellbooks, together they could be more powerful than this one."

"That does not sound any better than what I said, Sammy."

He was going to get a headache from all of the back and forth.

"Sam, I would like to put this photo up on the mantle. I know that Santa isn't real but I still think he would have liked to see Jack. Will you be burning that log tonight?"

"Did you want me to? I think we're supposed to wait for Yule to start for that but we do have other logs we could burn?"

"I would like that. Are you coming, Dean?"

"You know what, I don't.. yeah, all right. We can watch a movie or something and have a log burning thing... but we're watching Die Hard cuz it is the best Christmas movie."

As the two started to leave the room, Sam stayed behind. "You guys go ahead, I'll catch up. I'm gonna call her and say thanks for all of this stuff."

In reality, he had spied something extra when he peeked into one of the small drawers on the chest that he wanted to get a closer look at. He didn't think anything malicious was in there, it would be strange after how nice everything else was but she'd gone to the effort to do all of this for him and he wanted to enjoy that on his own.

Pulling on the hook, the compartment slid open to reveal just a small handwritten note with the words "behind you" written on them. A subtle shift in the air made the hair on the back of Sam's neck stand on end and he glanced behind him to find that sure enough, a portal was opening up in front of his eyes and peering out the other side was a redheaded royal looking far too pleased with herself. 

"Happy Christmas, Samuel. Come round for naughty or nice holiday toast?"

"You celebrate Christmas?"

"I am today, tis the season for giving and matchmaking and all that. Come on, before the other two peas wonder where you've gone off to."

Setting the grimoire back into its place, Sam called out that he would be back and dashed through the opening before his brother could object and watched it close behind him. Dean was going to spend the holidays with someone he loved, watching a movie he knew off by heart and Sam only hoped they would use the time to talk about Jack and hopefully come to forgive each other and get back on track.

He, on the other hand, was going to spend the holidays with the woman that he knew he loved and had lost too many times to keep hiding it, watching her as she went through her own holiday preparations and learning about the things that she knew off by heart. If this was the last year of new traditions and final countdowns, they might as well go out in matching plaid after all. He was almost sure he could convince her of that.

Happy Christmas indeed.


End file.
